The Sea
by Roper
Summary: One Shot. John takes Liz to visit his family....he warns her first


**The Sea**

By Kate Roper

"It can't be that bad, John. You're exaggerating," whispered Liz, rolling her eyes. She had no idea what she was in for. I put the Mustang into park and opened the door, stepping out into the cold night air.

"But it _is_ that bad," I stated confidently. She'd understand when she met them, then, she'll know what I've been telling her all these years.

"Oh, come on, John, they're your _family_. You're just nervous because you haven't seen them in so long. You're making too much of this."

"No, I'm not!" I said loudly, before remembering that we were on the street, right outside the house and, despite the party's volume, they could probably hear us. I lowered my voice to a whisper, "and I'm not nervous."

"Yes, you are, you're sweating," Liz grinned smugly at me, as we walked up the brick path.

"It's hot," I defended, looking at the cliché, suburban house with disgust, dreading every approaching step.

"It's October, John," Liz laughed, she always could see right through me, "It's okay to be nervous, it's understandable."

"I am not nervous!" I stated in a hissed whisper, stopping outside the front door. I stood, readying myself on the porch, breathing in a deep breath or two. After about a minute without movement, Liz rolled her eyes and knocked as loud as she could, probably just to spite me.

"And trust me," I said, hearing the clickity-click of heels on hardwood get louder, "you'll see." My smirk died away to be replaced with a fake, overly euphoric grin that didn't suit my face. I noticed that the door I'd been staring at expectantly changed into my eldest sister.

"John! You're late," Said the stern voice of Claire, who placed her hands on her hips and glared in a way that I'd only seen directed at her children. The serious look faded when she saw Liz, it turned into an expression that could only be described as utter happiness.

"Oh, my god! You did it! You finally got married! It's about time," she exclaimed. I sent a look of 'I told you so' towards Liz.

"I didn't get married, this is my _friend_, Liz." Claire's grin faded.

"Oh," she said with obvious disappointment. Claire always bugs me about settling down and starting a family, getting a secure and less dangerous job, and 'living life' as she called it. But upon looking around at the insufferably 'Stepford' neighborhood, I decided that we had very different views of what that meant. Claire's frown changed seamlessly into polite smile, though it did appear strained.

"Hello Liz, I'm John's sister, Claire," she introduced herself with that artificial voice that she used when in company.

I ignored their exchange of greetings and 'nice to meet you's and merely followed them silently, trying to avoid the stench that their false pleasantries created. I hated this house, still do. It wasn't really the house that was on my shit-list, mostly just the memories that filled it, they bled from the walls.

As we walked past I noticed that the living room was completely filled with people, none of them I've ever seen before yet, somehow they knew my name and I returned their 'good to see ya's with another smile of false cheerfulness. My face felt so strained with fallacy that I thought it might break in half.

Finally, after many, many achingly, awkward conversations, we made it through the door that separated the kitchen from the party and my countenance got the reprieve it needed. I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and sat down on a barstool, pulling it up to the black, marble island in the middle of the kitchen. Coincidently, I'd chosen the spot farthest away from Liz and Claire, not that Liz was bothering me, she was just consorting with the enemy. I enjoyed the silence that I knew wouldn't last.

I had dreaded this day for months. Thanksgiving, a time where families everywhere get together and share dinner, in an environment of familiarity, enjoying each other's company. This was not how Thanksgiving went in my family though, seeing as how I haven't seen them in almost two years, it wasn't exactly familiar anymore and, from what I do remember, I don't recall anyone ever enjoying each other's company. Sure it always started out well, but slowly and surely my family's personalities would hack away at the edges of my patience until there was nothing left. In my view it was like being thrown into shark-infested waters, covered in raw meat; you didn't stand a chance.

I decided to take my attention off of my situation and eyed the pumpkin pie sitting in front of me. Of my three sisters, Sarah was the only one that could cook, and damn could she cook. I looked around the kitchen, seeing only Liz and Claire talking in the corner of the kitchen, suspiciously glancing in my direction. Ignoring this, I reached my hand forward. Almost got it. SLAP!

"Ow!" I exclaimed, rubbing my hand.

"Don't touch my pie, John. It's for dessert." The glower Sarah was sending me told me that it was best not to risk another swipe for the pie. Her glare faltered and she smiled.

"I missed you." She said, hugging me tightly. I returned her embrace with the insincere smile that seemed so popular on me today. She let go, still smiling until she caught sight of my pop can.

"John! Use a coaster for Christ's sake!" somehow she managed to pull a coaster out of what seemed to be thin air and slammed it onto the table, making me jump. She waited with a stare that could intimidate a raging bull until I placed my can on top of the coaster.

"Happy?" I deadpanned.

"Ecstatic." She grinned back, walking over to my eldest sister and friend in the corner.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but after mom died we all just kind of fell apart, she really was what held us all together. Now our relationship seemed like it was more for show, we acted as though we enjoyed getting together but the strain was always there if you knew where to look.

Sarah is sweet but far too obsessive compulsive for my taste, extremely neurotic over tiny things that no one else cares about: case in point: coaster. It usually takes me about three hours to get fed up with her, pretty long considering the rest of the family. I studied her, talking animatedly with Liz and Claire, who both had looks of understanding on their faces, she gestured to my hair. Flattening my unruly mop self consciously, I mused, it might take a little less time then usual for me to reach my breaking point.

Claire is worse, though generally a good person and sister, she is way too concerned about what I'm doing with my life, always nagging me about where my life is going. She's much quicker to get annoyed with, after two hours of listening to it, I usually snap. Claire had now pulled out the small photo album that she kept on the kitchen counter for a conversation piece. God, help me.

Then comes Dad, and he's … well … he's Dad and I'd rather not get into that.

The only member of the family that I can tolerate for any length of time is my twin sister Jen. We always had an understanding between us, we both knew what our family was like and took solace in each other's company. I pulled myself out of my reverie and looked back up at Sarah, snapping my fingers rudely to get her attention, she walked over and grabbed hold of my hand to stop the offending sound and rolled her eyes.

"He still does that?" she looked to Liz, who gave her a look that screamed 'all the time.' It was official, Liz was no longer welcome as my back up. Deserter.

"Where's Jen?" I questioned, realizing I hadn't seen her on the way in.

"She's coming late, she'll be here, don't worry." Sarah smirked at the look of relief that crossed my face. There was something else too, behind her eyes, jealousy almost that Jen and I had found reprieve where she had not. In an instant it disappeared, forgotten, to be remembered when it no longer means anything, as most truly significant moments are.

"When do we eat?" the question came out as a plea, coupled with the growling of my stomach.

"Anytime you like, we set up the food in the living room," before I could get off my chair, Claire was back, bringing Liz with her, explaining as she walked all the things she felt were wrong with my life, while still displaying the photo album. Now that was multi-tasking. Though fortunately, it seemed that Liz was beginning to get the gist of my earlier warnings as she sent a pitying glance my way.

"John, when are you going to settle down? Be happy?"

"I am happy," I defended. Claire, as usual, ignored me.

Finally, after what had to have been an hour of listening to Claire nag about my attitude, relationships, and choice of hairstyle, (which, by the way, there was _nothing_ wrong with) they let me leave to get something to eat. Sarah led Liz and me to the living room, avoiding as I went, the unfamiliar eyes and the memories still leaking down the walls and up from the carpet. I sniffed the air, I could smell it already and my stomach growled in response. It was the gift that God bestowed upon me for sacrificing my sanity in coming to this soul-sucking house; the turkey. It looked delicious and I nearly leapt forward in hunger, knocking relatives –or rather strangers- to and fro to get to it, but I restrained myself and merely increased my pace.

I piled my plate high and, looking at Liz's small portion, dropped more turkey on her plate too –she never ate enough-, receiving another angry stare in response, though this time it was tinged with appreciation. The food was everything I imagined it would be, the only thing worth going to a family gathering for. My happiness and appetite diminished when I caught sight of my father. Exit stage left. Before I could move, he was on me, at least I still had Liz with me, an ally in a sea of enemies.

"Son." He stated rather then greeted. I nodded in response.

"What're you doing here?" he asked tersely.

"I was invited." I decided to go with the succinct approach, the less I say, the less he'll criticize.

"You weren't here last year," he declared, gaze never wavering from me.

"Yeah I know, Dad." I sighed and looked to Liz. Just as she was about to introduce herself and hopefully break the tension, Claire appeared.

"Liz, we're going to pick up some stuff at the store, come on." She grabbed Liz's arm and dragged her out of the room, Liz giving me a look of apology before she was pulled out of sight. And the sea came crashing down. Here I was, alone with him. Great. I was going to get Liz for this.

"Where do you go?" he asked angrily, "you have responsibilities to your family, you can't just run off anytime you like." My anger was rising at a fast pace, I could hear my heartbeat through my ears.

"I don't 'run off,' Dad. I'm a pilot, it's common to, you know, fly to different places. I go where I'm told to go. Besides, I fulfilled my responsibilities to my family … to mom, unlike you."

The silence between us was deafening, it seemed to last forever before I felt a tug on my arm and barely had time to react before I, too, was dragged from the room.

"Thanks," I stated, not knowing what else to say.

"You looked like you needed it," Jen said, smiling with a look of understanding, which then transformed into a scathing glare.

"How many times have I told you? Just ignore him and he'll go away!"

"When did you get here?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Just now," it seemed a change of topic wasn't what she had in mind, "you've got to let things go, John. I know what our family can be like, but they're still _our_ family. Do what I do, just … nod." She advised.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed, letting the anger rush out of me with my breath.

"You just gotta remember what your responsibility to you family is." My head whipped up, my face set in tension.

"And what responsibility is that?" I asked, wondering if she was echoing Dad's words from earlier, fortunately she wasn't.

"To overlook their flaws." Jen smiled at me and I graced her with, for the first time that night, I smile that I really meant. She always had a way with words.

With that we headed back inside, my anger now gone, replaced with a feeling of contentment that I wasn't used to feeling around my family. Jen became lost in the crowd as she headed towards the kitchen, but I lagged behind. Looking around I noticed to my surprise that the memories in the walls no longer bleed, they seeped. Liz appeared beside me,

"I'm sorry I left, I-"

"It's okay Liz, everything's fine," I said surprising even myself.

"I think I understand what you were talking about," she smiled, glancing in the direction of Sarah and Claire.

"Good." At my quiet and unfamiliar tone, she turned back to me, concerned.

"We can go now if you want," she stated; offering me a way our. I didn't take it.

"No, I think I'm gonna stay a little while longer."


End file.
